


[__]

by assortedwords



Series: one, ten, ten thousand (a3 week 2019) [6]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21692545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assortedwords/pseuds/assortedwords
Summary: The monochrome never really fades. (Spoilers for Banri's past memories/boyhood collage in Act 7.)It’s suffocating. Everything sounds like it’s coming from underwater, looks like it’s through a glass. It’s suffocating in class, on the train, even in the practice room of MANKAI doing what he’s meant to love most. It’s obvious too—he makes mistake after rookie mistake as they rehearse, each one piling on him until his feet drag. Part of him is furious, demanding he do better. Most of him just feels like lead. Too heavy, too cumbersome to do anything but the bare minimum, and even that's starting to wear on him.
Relationships: Settsu Banri/Hyoudou Juuza, Settsu Banri/Nanao Taichi/Hyoudou Juuza
Series: one, ten, ten thousand (a3 week 2019) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1254509
Comments: 16
Kudos: 113





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**Author's Note:**

> taichi does not actually appear in this fic, but he does get mentioned a few times! shadow taicchan

When Banri wakes up, it feels like his feelings have been scooped out of his chest.

It's not new. The monochrome never really fades; it dips in and out more often now, but it never _leaves_. Each good day feels stolen, numbered, and each bad day only feels inevitable. It takes Banri god knows how long to get out of bed, watching the minutes tick by on his phone but without any urgency to them. He can't seem to care about anything at all.

It’s suffocating. Everything sounds like it’s coming from underwater, looks like it’s through a glass. It’s suffocating in class, on the train, even in the practice room of MANKAI doing what he’s meant to love most. It’s obvious too—he makes mistake after rookie mistake, each one piling on him until his feet drag. Part of him is furious, demanding he do better. Most of him just feels like lead. Too heavy, too cumbersome to do anything but the bare minimum, and even that's starting to wear on him. _What’s wrong with you today,_ Sakyo starts to say, and stops when he sees the listless, dead-eyed look on Banri's face.

Sakyo exchanges glances with Izumi, and the two of them nod after communicating something telepathically. Banri watches with apathy. No doubt it’s something like _we’re stopping here today, go take a break._ _We’re worried about you_ is the underlying message, probably, except people caring about him also feels like a faraway concept he can’t grasp in the fog. Well, that one's always been hard to get.

They do stop there for the day. Everyone pauses and shuffles off to the sides of the room awkwardly, reaching for their water bottles and towels as slowly as they can manage. Nobody wants to leave first, wants to be the one that walks out on their unwell leader and risk looking like an unsympathetic prick. (That’s not fair to say, Banri thinks. He's sick of having to be fair. He’s sick of all of it.) Not even Izumi leaves, even though Banri knows for a fact she’s got to supervise Summer Troupe right after this. Everyone's looking at him, and pretending not to look at him.

 _It’s suffocating._ The words float into his head again unprompted. Every unsaid word hangs in the air until Banri can’t breathe.

He grabs his script and water bottle instead. Turns his heel towards the door. Maybe he should say _good work,_ because it’s true—everyone had given it their all, as usual, even if they’d been tired from work or school or whatever. They deserve the acknowledgement. It’s the least he can do. It’s what a leader would do.

He opens his mouth, and finds his brain feels like lead.

_Suffocating._

He leaves without a word.  
  


* * *

  
Dinner passes by in the same vein. Same monochrome filter, same dulled senses. The food tastes like cardboard, but Banri sticks a mouthful of curry in his mouth mechanically anyway. The conversation around him is only just tolerable if he tunes it out, but of course Banri’s not that lucky.

 _You good?_ Tenma asks, frowning. _You’re acting weird._

Banri must _really_ be off for Tenma to drop the tsundere. Normally he would laugh, sling an arm around Tenma’s shoulders and tease him for caring, but today what comes out of his mouth is—

_The fuck do you care for?_

Tenma flinches, his eyes narrowing defensively. It pisses Banri off.

 _Hey, hey,_ Kazunari says, slipping in neatly. He waves his phone at Tenma and sticks it under Tenma’s nose. _Tenten, look at this sweet bonsai I found on my Inste feed—_

This, too, is an indicator of Banri being shitty. Damage control. Kazunari gives him what’s meant to be an understanding smile before turning back to Tenma, and it only frustrates Banri more. He doesn’t _like_ being treated like a ticking time bomb. Each well-intentioned question or sympathetic look is a reminder that Banri is someone everyone has to be _careful_ around, pull out the kid gloves with because he's prickly and angry and not even Banri knows why. It pisses him off. It pisses him off that he can’t turn around without hurting someone. It pisses him off that all he feels is this drowning wave of whatever fucked-up emotion he has, and that he doesn't know how to magically wave it all away. _Easy mode._ What had happened to that?

The thoughts swarm around his head like static, growing louder with every second. His feet twitch restlessly against the floor. _Run_ , his brain instructs him. _If you stay you'll explode. Leave before you do._

So he does. He shoves his chair back from the table without so much as an excuse and gets up, ignoring the way the sound rings across the dinner table roughly. Everyone stops to stare at him. Or maybe that's just what it feels like. Maybe nobody actually gives a shit and Banri’s stupid for thinking otherwise. He hears Sakuya call his name, but he doesn’t look back.

Nobody stops him when he walks out of the dorm. Good. Banri imagines them looking at each other confused, wondering, the same cautious looks Autumn Troupe had given each other like they didn’t know how to deal with him. Banri doesn’t need any of that now, or ever.

But the doors swing shut a second time after him, before he even makes it out the gate, and Banri knows he’s got company.

_The hell do you think you’re going?_

Banri sighs at the voice. Of course it’s Hyodo. MANKAI has no shortage of busybodies, but this one always seems to have shitty—or fucking fantastic—timing. Trust him to be here when Banri doesn’t want him to be. _Find out for yourself,_ he snaps. He doesn't expect a yes. He lifts his chin and meets Hyodo’s gaze, ready for Hyodo to brush him off, pick a fight to drag him back.

But Hyodo hesitates. His hands twist into each other uncertainly, betraying his anxiety, and he steps forward next to Banri. Banri stares before he can stop it. His brain’s too goddamn fuzzy to process this.

“So?” Hyodo says. That single word breaks through the the fog, and everything clouds over again. _Let's go._

Hyodo is a busybody, a goody-two-shoes who follows the rules like his damn life depends on it, but he’s also never stepped down from any of Banri's challenges. Maybe Banri should have known better.

Neither of them talk as they start walking. Hyodo doesn’t look at Banri. No careful looks, no worried glances. He stares at his feet, the street ahead, anything but Banri. Banri can’t get a read on him at all, and it grates at him.

 _We're going to the river,_ Banri tells him, finally, just to fill the damn silence.

_Why?_

Banri shrugs. _Felt like it._

Hyodo seems to accept that. The two of them lapse into silence again as they walk towards the river, the strip of quiet under the highway away from it all. Banri walks fast, the itch in his skin about to burst, and Hyodo matches him easily.

Banri supposes that's what he'd liked about Hyodo in the first place.

The river is still as usual when they arrive, the grass unruly and untamed. It hasn’t changed since the day he ran away from home all those years ago. The irony of it would make Banri laugh, bitterly, if he had the goddamn energy. All he wants is something different, and in the end the only thing that welcomes him is stagnation. It feels like he always winds up where he started no matter how far he runs.

Hyodo shifts next to Banri, his stupid sandals crunching the grass under them. The noise tugs Banri back to life a little. At the very least, he’s not alone this time. The thought feels like a rush of fresh air. Banri stands at the edge of the water, close enough for his sneakers to toe the wet soil, and Hyodo looks at him.

_You…wanna talk about it?_

Banri shrugs. He looks down at the water, not meeting Hyodo's eye. It’s still hard to admit his vincibility. He's used to his easy mode, the expectation that he would win anything that came his way, the terrifying free fall if he doesn't. _Shit’s just hard sometimes._

 _…Yeah._ Hyodo takes his hand. _I get that._ He tugs Banri down until both of them are sitting on the grass, and pulls Banri in to lean on him. _If you want to keep talking, uh. Do it._

It's stupid and endearing, and Banri would laugh if it didn't make him want to cry. He turns to bury his head into Hyodo's shoulder, and swallows past the lump in his throat when Hyodo wraps his arms around him easily.

 _Stupid oaf,_ Banri says, his voice cracking. _Why are you good at this?_

 _I get a lot of practice with you,_ Hyodo retorts.

 _Fucking liar,_ Banri snaps. _Taichi cries way more than I do._

 _Both of you are crybabies,_ Hyodo says, a relieved little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His voice is easy to grasp even through the fog. It always has been. The one thing that promised a technicolour world just beyond the horizon.

 _Quit_ **_saying_ ** _shit,_ Banri growls, which isn’t his best comeback.

Hyodo doesn't say anything more. He doesn't do anything more, just sits and lets Banri be, in his arms leaning his forehead on his shoulder. The gesture alone makes Banri crack, the numbness along with it. Then the sadness hits, and the tears follow.

It’s bad. It’s always bad when he cries, even if he can’t remember that last time he did. One thing Banri does remember, at least, as his breath hitches: he’s never been a graceful crier. He cries the way he does everything else, loud and unstoppable, pouring himself into it even if he doesn’t _want_ to. Everything seems to fade into a blur, the world coming down to the pathetic sound of Banri’s sobs, the feeling of Hyodo’s jacket under his fingers, the tears pouring down hard and fast.

Hyodo just holds him close. Even while sobbing, Banri can guess what must be under that touch—Hyodo must be way out of his depth. But still he’s what Banri needs, quiet and unassuming, rubbing slow circles onto Banri’s back. It feels safe. Banri lets himself sink into it for the time being. 

Banri doesn't know how long he cries. He only knows that he's drained by the end of it, his body hollow. Only that Hyodo is there the whole time.

He sits up slowly when he’s run out of tears. Hyodo lets him go, and Banri finds himself missing it. 

“Better?” Hyodo asks quietly.

Banri shrugs. He feels like an empty husk of a human being, but that’s the usual. “I’ll live.”

Silence lapses between them again. The river is still today, silvery and blue. It stretches wide and far, but Banri can still see where it ends.

“You know,” Banri starts. The words just fall out of him. He doesn’t feel _good_ , but he supposes the fog has dissipated some, and the anger has left for now. “I ran away here once, when I was a brat.”

Hyodo looks at him questioningly.

“I got sick of everything,” Banri says. Besides, it doesn’t really matter what he says. Hyodo has garbage timing; he’ll probably sneeze now, or yawn, or straight up go selectively deaf like he always does. Banri could tell him everything he knows about acting right here and Hyodo would miss it. “And I came here.” He kicks at the grass to make his point. “The only thing that kept me going was how maybe I could find a rival one day. Someone who could catch up to me. Something like that.”

Except, for once in his goddamn life, Hyodo hears. He looks away from Banri, looking down at the grass instead, and says the same thing Banri’s already thinking. Of course he does. “...You did. Didn’t you.”

“...Yeah,” Banri says. “I found both.”

Now that Hyodo’s actually heard, the conversation is way too embarrassing to continue. (Taichi would be proud of them, at least. If either of them manage to talk about it again.) Hyodo seems to agree too, because he gets up abruptly and looks down at Banri. Sort of. He still doesn’t meet Banri’s eyes, staring just right of him. “...You want to go back?”

“...Yeah,” Banri says. Hyodo lets him get up on his own.

They make their way back. Banri stumbles when he walks, and neither of them comment when Hyodo takes hold of his hand.

The MANKAI dorms come into view after a while, and the familiar sight makes a stupid stab go through Banri’s heart. He imagines the scene later, before he can stop it: Izumi rushing to greet them at the door, Omi offering to heat up the dinner Banri had abandoned, Tenma skulking at the door of the room, concerned even if Banri had been an asshole. Taichi would probably be back too; he’d scold Banri a little, but wrap him into cuddles, understanding. Tears prick behind Banri’s eyes again, and he wipes them away roughly. Maybe a part of him had wanted to be found after all.

The peace won't last. The urge to run still remains in the background, as familiar as the back of Banri’s hand, burned into who he is. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe what matters is that even if he runs, he has a home he wants to return to. People that keep him coming back.

**Author's Note:**

> [prompt](https://twitter.com/a3_week/status/1068897110165200896) || day 2: past
> 
> "what's up with the title" you know that feeling when ur head's totally empty in a bad way? it's that kind of feel!
> 
> i don't have much to say this time! banchan makes me sad, that's all ; v ;
> 
> thanks for reading! here's my [twitter,](http://twitter.com/kurokeltos) if you're into that!


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